It Should've Been Her
by redshipper
Summary: How to tell someone what you feel when words aren't meaningful enough?


b Title: /b It Should've Been Her

b Author: /b Lucy (spybarbie)  
b Pairing: /b Booth/Brennan

b Spoilers: /b Two Bodies In The Lab  
b Rating: /b PG  
b Summary: /b how to tell someone what you feel when words aren't meaningful enough?

b Disclaimers: /b These characters do not belong to me. They're property of 20th Century Fox and Hart Hanson; no rights infringment intended.

"It should've been me, Ange"

"I know, sweetie."

"Booth nearly died because of i me /i "

"Bren..."

She stared at Angela, eyes glistening with tears and she didn't know where exactly they came from. The sight of Booth lying unconscious on the floor, the door of the fridge on him and all the fire made the insides of her stomach feel like ice.

The wound on her forehead was healing now, although it still ache eventually, an irrational reaction to the memories of the past events and she knew it. Brennan knew each one of the chemical reactions in her body and why they were happening and yet she couldn't make it stop.

"He was tortured," she said, flatly.

"Tortured?"

"Yeah. I saw his x-rays, there were evidences all over his body of torture that was obviously painful and that he never mentioned to me."

"From this incident?"

"No, from years ago. Possibly when he was a sniper, it dates more than 5 years."

"He probably didn't want to make you uncomfortable about it."

Brennan was silent again and lowered her head.

"Tell him."

"Tell him what?"

"How you feel."

"What, that I'm angry? That I feel powerless about what happened to him? That, even though he always does whatever he can to protect me I'm a threat to his life?"

"Well, is that what you feel now?"

"Yeah. That and this irrational fear. I know his life's not endangered, but I feel it's my fault he's lying on a bed right now, in pain. And he's been through enough physical pain in his life."

"Sweetie..."

"I was scared, Ange." Brennan had tears flooding her eyes now, nose and cheeks slighty flushed "what if the next serial killer succeds on killing him?"

"Have you ever thought that he might wonder the same thing about you?"

Brennan frowned, sniffling slightly.

"Tell him," she insisted.

"I'm not good at that. I don't even know what to say."

Angela glanced towards the door and said.

"You'd better put that fast-working brain into use 'cause he's outside your office."

She turned to look at that direction, while Angela stood up and walked fastly to the door, meeting Booth halfway. He had his arm held up in a cast and blue spots all over his face; gingerly walking inside Brennan's office, he stopped near her desk.

"I'm glad you're fine, Booth. It's good to have you back," Angela said, giving him her warmest smile and hugging him carefully. She left as silently as she could.

"Hey, Bones!" he said, cheerfully.

In a jolt she stood up and in front of him, her cheeks slightly moist by the tears that were drying off now. Perhaps no other person could tell she was distressed by looking at her, but Booth knew it by the moment he laid his eyes on Brennan.

"What's wrong?"

She tried to do as Angela told her, to find out words to tell him, but nothing seemed to come out. So much knowledge she had, two books published and yet nothing seemed to come out when she needed. And how to tell someone what you feel when words aren't meaningful enough?

Brennan carefully pulled him closer to her and kissed him on the lips, prying them open; she had her eyes open, staring into his. Brennan enjoyed the warm softness and slight sweetness of his mouth, their tongues touching and sliding against each other surprisingly slower than she could have planned it would be, if she would have planned it; it felt more familiar to her than she'd ever imagine, as if they had been kissing for a lifetime now.

When she parted, she looked at him and it wasn't confusion what she saw in his eyes, but understanding. He's got her message thoroughly and smiled, caressing her hair with his free hand.

**END**


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